Each year SOS has held an urban rifle hike, a 10 mile hike through the city of Rancho Cordova, and the urbanized portion of County of Sacramento with an unloaded rifle or shotgun in a sling on our way to the shooting range at Cordova shooting center.
This hike is meant to educate Californians about their second amendment rights, California's gun laws, gun safety, and locations they can shoot legally. It also prepares hikers for hunting season which is upon us directly.

The hike will begin from Bradshaw Road near Hwy 50 in Sacramento, and continue on to Folsom Blvd. The hike will start at 10:30 am and finish approximately 2.5 hours later at the Cordova shooting center. Rides will be provided for the return trip after a couple or more hours of shooting time at the center.

All guns must be unloaded, but you may bring ammunition carried separately. Guns should be carried in slings or similar devices.

All law enforcement agencies will be advised of this hike beforehand for our safety, and so that law enforcement can inform people who call them that this is a lawful exercise. Education is among our primary goals

It is likely to be warm or hot, so bring a couple bottles of frozen water so you'll have a cool drink as it melts. I bring two frozen and one not frozen, and just pour one into the one that's iced. Also, it's at least 10 miles, so good shoes is a must. I also recommend a headband to keep sweat out of your eyes somewhat.

Today was Urban Rifle Hike III in Sacramento. A ten plus mile hike with a basic rifle carried openly on a sling, through urbanized Sacramento county. The hike started promptly at 10:30 am, with a small backpack filled with a first-aid kit, two frozen bottles of water, one not frozen water, a camera, some rounds, ear and eye protection, a cell phone, and a few dollars for range fees. Traffic on Bradhaw road, the first major roadway, was busy. The temperature was cooler than last year's hike, but still pretty warm, as sweat began to flow right away.

There were some stares by passer's-by, but no real worrisome ones, and I crossed the 6 lanes at a traffic light in full view of many people. The beginning of this route brings me to the overcrossing of busy US Highway 50 right away, and there's always a bit of apprehension about being seen with a rifle and scope atop a busy freeway. It was at this point I was hoping that all my E-mails to all the local PD's, CHP Dispatchers, and county sheriff's deputies had hit there mark days earlier. I event broadened my horizons by including state park rangers, because I see them from time to time, being so close to the American River Parkway. But my fears eased as I climbed the overpass and made my way down the other side. It was just past here where I saw a sheriff's unit going the other way, and whose officer did not pay me attention at all.

As I made the ending leg of Bradshaw road, I noticed several more people taking notice of the gun, but didn't see anyone pulling over and ducking for cover. By this time I had crossed several busy intersections, waiting for the "walk" signals each time, and passed by active fast food joints, busy gas stations, and a popular skating rink with a packed Korean restaurant next to it. I crossed the rail tracks and headed east on Folsom Blvd, passing the spot where I was apprehended 2 years ago by many law enforcement at gun point. I was very happy to see that I had gotten through that milestone without incident, pleased that notifying all law enforcement was a good idea and had prevented further fiascos the likes of that.

The pace set was approximately 3.5 miles per hour, and I had plenty of opportunity to take notice of just how many dead animals there were on this stretch of road. Mainly Oppossum, Skunk, Raccoon, and Squirrel, but a few domestic cats, and one sizeable snake. This is one of the disturbing and distasteful side effects of urban growth, as we squeeze these ceatures between developments. Soon the only viable wildlife ends up being rats, the most unwelcome of species. I saw many people taking notice of the rifle, which unfortunately has been driven underground by political and peer pressures, however no major disturbances are apparent.

After a few miles, I passed a heavily used Light Rail station with numerous people awaiting the next train both directions. It was here I had the closest contact with people as I walked past. I heard two people calling someone, I'm assuming it was the police or 911 operators, giving a description and location. Unfortunately my hearing disability won't allow for precise words, but I got enough from each to know that I was the subject of their report. I'll say that although people were surprised, I did not see them moving away or pulling their kids off the sidewalk. Likewise, they did not seek cover, so I'm thinking there is still hope out there for proper gun exposure. I stopped for a moment at the drinking fountain here, but after seeing how filthy it was, I waved it off. As the the chatter from the people started to diminish with every step I took away from this platform, I caught the smell of weed from the people at the outer edges of this hub.

At this point, I was closing in on my next turn onto Mather Field Road. I again crossed the tracks and headed south on another busy roadway. Within a few minutes, a car driving slowly on my left closed in and two handheld devices sprouted from the windows. One younger girl asked me to smile as they took pictures, and then a car behind them also came real close a for better look. After that had passed, several kids operating a car wash across the street waved at me as they beckoned car owners in. It was about here a city police car slowed to a crawl, and the officer took a strong, but not mean look at me. We waved at each other, and he pulled ahead, but then turned right at the next light. A few minutes later I arrived at that intersection and saw him parked and exiting his unit. As I closed in, he sort of motioned me to come over, and I kept my hands empty and partially extended. We engaged in a brief discussion about where I was headed next, and then we were joined by another unit whose officer also chimed in on the discussion. Neither of them asked to inspect the rifle or present ID, but then again, my notifications included a thorough description with my info already. One officer did ask me if anyone had "said" anything to me when I went through the bad part of Folsom Blvd. I relayed that I now live in the bad part of town, which was encroaching on our once rural quiet homestead. Basically, I'm accustomed to sheetheads now. He also mentioned that I was the subject of many calls, although I didn't ask the actual number. The encounter was pleasant and beneficial, and soon I resumed my hike, having reached the halfway point in this area

Once again, I had to cross busy US Highway 50, and as before, many people used the ramps here. I had to keep a close watch for traffic in this area because the roadway is not really geared for pedestrians. The next five or 6 miles is a bit less traveled, but no less wide, This takes me by the entrance to the old Mather Air Force Base, and alongside the military hospital. I'm seeing a bit less people in cars, but passed a few people out for a jog. Most just acknowledged me without shock. But then again, it's plenty hot by now, and I would imagine that a jogger's main thought is just a cool drink and the end of their run, so who needs a distraction from that? Within a mile or so, I finally broke down and stopped for a drink. The frozen water bottle had time to melt a little by now, and the water was thick and refreshing. After I had drained it down to the ice chunk inside, I uncapped a bottle that had not been frozen and poured the water into the bottle with the ice. Within a few seconds I was drinking another good amount of that ice water that really hit the spot. As I mounted up again, I saw a guy in a small truck calling someone while staring at me. I dismissed this and headed on my way.

The next two miles brought me to the aqueduct where I saw some people using the bike trail. One stopped and dismounted as I passed, as if to wait a clear distance from me. There were two young boys inside the fence up close to the water's edge, and I was compelled to warn them away from the canal. Falling in here, there is little opportunity to climb out, as the sides are steep concrete without foot or handholds. After passing them, a guy walking behind me caught up and engaged me in conversation about the legalities of open carry. I gave him the best basic education I could, but I'll have to say I think it fell on interested, but useless ears. My guess is that guy was not able to have a gun anyway. The conversation turned to weed in a short time, and my expressions on that subject did not seem to be agreeable to him. We parted company by some auto dismantlers, and I headed south on sunrise, the last leg of the tour.

By now the heat was at it's highest point of the day, and I was feeling the effects of some tired muscles and a new pair of shoes. I had to keep the water bottle in hand to have slugs of cool water because I was sweating up a storm. I was glad the end was near. I closed in on the shooting center about 1:00 pm, and started hearing the familiar crack and pop of gunfire. I was nearing a creek of sorts that looked like a festering swamp from afar, and I saw a one-foot round river rock at the edge of it. For what ever reason, my staring at this rock was a subliminal message, because as soon as I got to the closest point between it and the bridge over the creek, the rock suddenly jumped into the water. My double take caused me then to recognize the turtle poop in the area where the "rock" was. That was a sizeable turtle for such a small creek.

I rounded the corner and humped it the last few hundred yards into the shooting center and made my way to the office to pay fees. I was astounded by the rise in costs, an extra $5.00 imposed by the local parks department, bringing the total to $17.00!!
I paid the fees, and entered the range at the next opportunity, grabbing an immediate chair and broke into the second bottle of frozen water. There was still a strong ice formation inside, and the water was a most welcome feeling. I rapped off some rounds, but after such a long tiring journey, called for my ride after only an hour of shooting, and less than 10 rounds. The long hot tour had diminshed my ability to close group, and weakened my muscles against the steel buttplate of my pre-'64 30.06. I was able to keep them all on the target, and within 4 inches of the center at 100 yards. Hardly my best day in precision, but this day was more about something else entirely. An accomplishment that you can't earn even squeezing off a thousand rounds.

I obtained a copy of the 911 calls from the time frames between when I left home, and when I arrived at the range. There's not that many, however there will still be a log from the sheriff's department dispatch that will have more. I'll have those soon too:

Notice how I am either white or hispanic, but no one ever says "there's a half breed doing...whatever"...
I seem to go through life having different changes whereby I look more like the white half, or more hispanic. When I was younger, my skin was more olive in the winter, but dark in the summer, and I tended to look more hispanic. About my 20's through 40's I looked more white, and now in my 50's I'm starting to look more hispanic again.